I don't own Wizards of Waverly Place or either of these characters...unfortunately.

Of All People

I just don't want to feel anymore. I'm tired of all the pain that this is causing me; she is the source of my agony.

When I think of all the things that we have been through together and about how perfect our relationship was before we allowed it to slide into No Man's Land...before the hidden glances became obvious or the innocent touching of camaraderie warped into a lover's caress.

She would smile at me whenever our eyes met. Her eyes would glisten with child-like anticipation and sincerity. I'd smile back and without knowing, we'd gaze at each other for entirely too long.

We were best friends but there was nothing platonic about our companionship.

Sometimes I could even tell what she was going to say before she parted those perfect lips to verbalize her thoughts. She never attributed this to magic, just the result of constant exposure.

We had a connection that many married couples would rival. Harper and I shared a bond that strengthened with time. She knew me for who I really was and she liked it. She loved it.

Only Harper knows that, with me, nothing is as it seems.

I'm not a one-dimensional, fashion-obsessed, unruly rebel with poor grades due to a non-existent work ethic. It's just that I do enjoy looking good and, at times, I get a little lazy and bored with life so I decide to make my own fun.

I'm sixteen. If I weren't a wizard, no one would even notice my antics and deviant ways and even if they did, they'd probably attribute it to teen angst or something equally as typical. Then I'd be in therapy.

But maybe I should see a therapist. Maybe a professional could help me better cope with this inner turmoil that weakens my body and will to thrive.

I don't want my family to worry but I guess I can't hide from them forever. My mom keeps questioning me as to why Harper doesn't come over anymore. I've run out of good lies and have resorted to simply shrugging my shoulders or changing the subject. I suspect that she knows what I'm doing but chooses not to speak on it. I wish that she would say something about it, inquire a little more. If only she knew how I would jump at the chance to tell her everything that ails me.

I would tell her about how Harper and I used to flirt all of the time and call it fun and games. I would tell her of how, when no one was looking, I would blow Harper a kiss and she would catch it and press it to her heart.

I would tell my mother about the conversations we had. Harper would always scoot closer to me, even if we were already very close, to hear what I was saying because she said she liked the way my words "tickled her eardrum". I would talk slowly and very softly so that she would be in my arms before the conversation was over and how, eventually, we would stop talking to sit in blissful silence.

I would even tell my mother about the night we lost control over our urges.

Harper was in my room, in my bed. Thick tension filled the space between us. If she moved in any way that caused our bodies to touch, even slightly, I would quiver. Harper noticed and giggled about it. This prompted a conversation and normalcy slowly slipped back into play.

We were chatting about everything we could think of except the obvious. When it seemed late enough, we stopped talking and pretended to be sleepy. She said goodnight and I joked about a goodnight kiss. I felt her moving...the pressure shift made it all too clear what was about to happen. As soon as I turned to look at her, I felt her soft lips against mine. I was immediately aroused.

Fearful that she would pull away, I grabbed the back of her head and held it in place. I needed to taste her. She opened her mouth slightly, inviting my tongue inside and I accepted.

Before long there was touching. We were grabbing and rubbing and kissing each other everywhere. Tops came off and pants slid down. There was a lot of heavy breathing and moaning in the darkness.

I was physically exhausted afterwards. I couldn't open my eyes or say one word. Before the thrall of inactivity and a soft mattress baited me into a heavy slumber, I swear I heard Harper whisper that she loved me. I can't quite recall whether or not I said it back, though.

The following morning was strange. When I awoke, she wasn't beside me. I started to think that I'd dreamt it all but parts of me still throbbed from where Harper had sucked or nibbled. There were little red blotches on my chest and inner thigh.

I quickly hoppped into my clothes that had been strewn all over my bedroom floor and went downstairs. I inquired about Harper's whereabouts that day and Justin told me that she had left about twenty minutes before I came down. He said she looked anxious and tired, like maybe she didn't have a good dream.

I was confused. I went back up to my room and flounced down on my bed wondering why Harper didn't wake me or even say goodbye after everything that had happened. I called her but was sent to voicemail. I sent her a text but she didn't respond. Thinking that she just needed some time to adjust, I decided to wait until I ran into her in school to talk to her.

Oddly enough, I didn't see her at all on Monday but I couldn't help but notice her reluctant presence everyday afterwards. It hurt me to watch my best friend and first love avoid and ignore me in a not-so-subtle manner.

When I looked at her, she would avert her eyes and turn away. Once, when we were in class, our eyes met and I really wish they hadn't. I didn't see that too familiar spark and luminous smile that I craved. Her visage was just so grim...her eyes, so sad and dark.

That image of her still haunts me, even when I look back at old pictures of us at the park or in the shop; I see nothing but the look of regret and shame.

When I approached her at lunch that same day, she literally ran away before I finished calling her name.

This was not supposed to happen to us. Never would I have guessed that Harper of all people would cringe at the sight of me.

That hurts more than anything.

I don't have any witty remarks or jokes to make about the situation.

I don't have enough energy to think of a spell that could stop the tears and rid me of this gloom.

I can't even sleep because the pain in my chest is too intense.

Did we not want the same thing? Did I push her too far?

Why would Harper tell me that she loves me just to break my heart?